


eyes on you

by sorano (zostir)



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: (wait do they properly confess), Confessions, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, Gift Fic, M/M, Presents, cameo of Mitsuki, follows part 1 timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 02:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zostir/pseuds/sorano
Summary: In his opinion, Iori has the faintest presence of them all. He seems like a guy who is scared of revealing himself, as if he was afraid of being judged. He's a guy who wants to protect his secrets.And yet Riku's eyes are always attracted to him.The story of how Riku slowly but surely gets closer to Iori and learns that sometimes, appearances can be deceptive.





	eyes on you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alia03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alia03/gifts).



> MERRY CHRISTMAS LAI! Are you surprised that I was your secret santa? :)  
> I'm so glad I got to write some ioriku! I hope you will like it and you'll find it fluffy enough (I'm not that good at writing fluff without a tint of angst).

The dorms are full of familiar scents: the aroma of the meals coming from the kitchen when Mitsuki cooks; the faint odour of the detergent permeating his clothes; the traces of perfumes in the air when one of the other members comes nearby; and this welcoming scent of what he thinks is home, his new home, that he can't describe - except that it is comforting.

He never feels bothered by all these light scents. They are reassuring, even relaxing. Outside scents, sometimes, mingle with them: the scent of rain, of wet grass, of the soil from time to time, and the scent of heat when the sun shines.

They soothe him, just like the sounds coming from the house do. No noise comes from the street, most of the time; he has to listen carefully to perceive the traffic. The dorms are quiet when they're not all home; without the sputters of his teammates or the music notes filling the silence (TRIGGER's songs, mainly, and Riku is one of those who listen to them on a regular basis), there are only the noises made by the electrical appliances, the ticking of the clocks, occasionally the sound of steps. They remind him of long hours spent reading, in his room; he would then raise his head to hear them.

All these things, while simple, remind him of the fact that he's not in the hospital. So he started to like them.

And now, there are other things he likes, too.

Riku knows the rhythm of his teammates' paces. Sougo and his steps that can't be heard; Tamaki and his irregular, frank strides, as if he's running more than walking; Nagi and his refined gait. Even Yamato's and Mitsuki's pace have their own characteristic, and Riku wouldn't mistake them.

He also knows which sounds come from which room: Musashi's throbbing, Sougo's western music, Nagi's animes, Zero's old hits, their own songs, and of course TRIGGER.

He knows their habit during their rest days: Yamato doesn't leave his room until the end of the afternoon; Nagi invades the living room and watches Magical Kokona; Tamaki, at some point, goes out and buys pudding; Sougo relieves his stress by cleaning some room that doesn't really need it; Mitsuki spends even more time in the kitchen.

He knows all of this, holds his knowledge dear. But what he knows of Iori... well, that's a different matter.

Iori takes stiff steps as if he's holding himself. When he's not working, he spends a good part of his day studying in his own room. He uses headphones when he listens to music, so Riku doesn't know what he likes.

In his opinion, Iori has the faintest presence of them all. He seems like a guy who is scared of revealing himself, as if he was afraid of being judged. He's a guy who wants to protect his secrets.

And yet Riku's eyes are always attracted to him.

 

 

 

When he's not studying, Iori exercises. His voice, his body, his charisma are his weapons, and he polishes them with care.

When he works on some choreography in one of the training rooms, Riku often slides behind the ajar door (grateful that Iori never completely shuts it) and casts glances at his progress.

Iori starts by warming up in order to prevent injuries. Then he switches the music on, and even when he's not dancing, he lets the song playing on a loop. His head swings softly to the rhythm of the music; he doesn't tie his bangs, so midnight blue locks skim his cheeks. When he starts doing his own steps, he puts all his energy in them. He's quickly covered with sweat, his t-shirt glued to his skin - and Riku _knows_ he shouldn't expect anything, but his eyes tend to remain a little too long on his torso and his shoulders.

Iori's dances don't have the same energy as Tamaki's, but they show how dedicated he is. His whole body dances: for instance, when he spreads out his arm, he opens out his fingers. Iori works hard, that's why his secret spectator never gets tired of watching him.

Iori has a notebook in which he draws the hardest moves he has to make, and he adds comments, too. Riku knows this because he once saw the book on his desk, and he didn't resist the temptation to open it. Iori draws simple figures, he is not an artist but it's not bad either. He writes his advice without care, but even in this case, his writing is clear and sophisticated. He regularly changes the notebook, and Riku remembers he said he liked stationery.

One day, when Riku doesn't have work, he decides to go out and buy a notebook. He spends forty minutes in the section, unsure of the pattern for the cover. For sure, Iori would like this deep-green cover, outlined by silver strokes, and he would like the one with black and white stripes: these notebooks have a plain design, but they're classy. However, Riku chooses a pattern _he_ likes more: a dark blue cover, with small moons and stars printed in relief. This one looks like a notebook a girl could buy for her favourite idol, but Riku himself could use it.

He buys it and entrusts his gift to his parents, who will anonymously send it.  And then he waits.

The package comes a few days later. Iori takes it to his room without a word. Riku doesn't see him use the notebook in the training room. He doesn't know if he should be disappointed or admits his choice was a bit bold.

Still, he thought Iori wouldn't care about this kind of things. He uses what he's gifted without regard for their appearance.

 

 

 

At some point, Riku has to review his views on the subject.

The small plush keyring he bought in Osaka now hangs on the buckle of his bag. This personal touch doesn't have any meaning; nobody notices it, not even the other members of IDOLiSH7, except for Mitsuki, who stares at it for a few seconds, before looking away.

Iori's bag is unsurprisingly impersonal and practical: it's black so he can match it with all his clothes, and there are a lot of pockets. It often lies next to Riku's, and sometimes, the plush toy rests on the black bag. Riku thinks it would suit Iori's bag, even though it's not his style.

Or maybe that's just a lie? He wonders.

See, Iori has some weird expressions every now and then, and nobody pays attention to them - of course, Iori always looks exasperated, weary, as if he's trying to fight his irritation and barely manages to keep his calm. Nobody tries to understand him. Riku does, though. Riku gazes at him from a distance, without seeming to, and he _notices_.

When the plush falls from his bag, a day all seven members are walking together, Iori bends down immediately. He's fast to do so, which means he was looking at the keyring. When Riku turns around, trying to understand why Iori crouched down, he sees him picking up the plush toy and carefully tracing a line across it to get rid of the dust. His face softens; his light smile, however, disappears when he raises his head and notices Riku.

Riku wonders if, one day, he will make him smile the same way. Not the delighted smiles his songs put on Iori's face because of his talent. No, Riku dreams of simple smiles, almost subdued, arising in the most surprising moments. Sincere smiles.

Iori gets back on his feet and, in a weak voice, explains: "It fell off your bag, Nanase-san. I'm going to tie it up again."

Riku impulsively shakes his head. "Keep it."

"Sorry?"

Iori opens his eyes wide. The plush toy lies in his hands and Riku thinks it suits him more. Iori looks colder, tougher than Riku, but he has a heart of gold and a real sensibility. And even though he hides this fact, Riku knows he loves cute things.

"Keep it, Iori. I wanted to remove it, anyway."

It's a lie, and Iori usually detects them - yet he says nothing. No doubt he wants to believe it. His fingers squeeze the plush. "A-Alright. It would be a waste if you don't use it anymore..."

Iori looks away. His cheeks wear a pink hue.

The other members of IDOLiSH7 walk again without paying them any attention. Only Mitsuki stares at them, and when his eyes meet Riku's, the younger thinks his strategy is discovered. Yet Mitsuki won't say anything.

Mitsuki kept this secret for so long, and Riku now understands why he did. He will, too, keep his mouth shut, for Iori's sake.

 

 

 

Time goes by, and their relationship evolves, to the point that Iori now opens his door without knocking, and Riku does the same.

Iori is the one who started this habit, and the first time he sneaked in, Riku made no comment. He only looked at him sitting on his bed, running his hand on the blanket to get rid of the lines he formed, and opening his book with the other hand. Riku stared at him for a few seconds before going back to his own reading. Though, to be honest, he wasn't fully focused on the story and kept glancing at Iori from time to time.

When he tried to do the same thing, he realized it was actually harder than he thought. He already had his hand on the handle but wanted to go back to the safety of his room. He was sure Iori would rebuke him. Yet when he mustered his courage and opened the door, Iori did nothing - other than looking away, a faint smile on his lips, before ignoring him.

At first, it was destabilizing, but now Riku doesn't fret about his behaviour anymore. Iori doesn't pay him any attention since he believes Riku won't try to talk when he's busy; they just enjoy each other's presence, in complete silence. So Riku reads in Iori's room. Sometimes he brings his phone and listens to music - his eyes fixed on Iori's bare neck when he tilts his head. His skin, pale for not being exposed to the sun, captivates him.

However, what Riku likes the most is reading with Iori.

When he sees Riku reading _The Temple of the Golden Pavilion_ , Iori is speechless.

"I thought you liked easier stories", he finally says, without malice - he only says what is in his mind.

Riku looks at him scornfully. "Iori still has a lot of things to learn about me."

Seeing that Iori watches the back cover, he hands him the book, and Iori takes it carefully as if he was afraid of it. He stares at the summary for a long moment.

"Nanase-san, do you really read that kind of things? For pleasure?" He sounds sceptical.

Riku nods. "You know, when I was at the hospital, I was bored. There aren't a lot of things to do. So I began reading a lot. I like a lot of different books, but my favourite kind of books might be the old ones. They show us a new world who isn't exactly like ours but still have some common points. It's... interesting, in a way."

He shuts his mouth. He doesn't know how to _exactly_ explain what is so fascinating about fiction. The charm might arise from the reader's ability to identify with a character, with their struggles, and to relate to their experiences. Reading is cathartic.

He looks into Iori's eyes - trying to spot any hint of emotion, of pride, of affection. All he can see is only surprise; and, for some obscure reason, Riku feels disappointed.

"Is it good?" Iori asks.

Riku nods again. "You can borrow it if you want. I have already read it once."

So Iori takes the book and, when he comes in Riku's bedroom, he brings it with him. He reads slowly, as his work doesn't allow him to have a lot of free time, and when he does, he usually studies or trains. However, Riku is patient. He could wait for years if it meant hearing about Iori's opinion on what must be his favourite novels. He's already satisfied with Iori's captivation while he reads. He sometimes forgets about himself: he slumps a bit, his back relaxed, and looks like a mere teenager. He looks young and Riku loves every single second of these moments.

When he returns the book to him, he wears a weird expression.

"So, how was it?" Riku asks, trying his best to keep his voice as neutral as possible. Trying to accept that, maybe, Iori doesn't share his tastes.

Iori doesn't answer right away, and Riku is on the verge of mentally collapsing when he admits: "You read strange books, Nanase-san. But... it was quite nice."

 

 

This one night, Riku can't sleep, as his bouts of coughing keep him awake. So he straightens up, switches on his bedside lamp and gets up. He walks to his window and draws the curtains. The night outside is torn apart by the street lights. Hundreds of bright points shine in the black, as if the stars, covered by clouds and pollution, were replaced by this urban pattern. At night, the city becomes the reflection of the sky and Riku always found this sight soothing.

He presses his forehead against the cold pane and lowers his eyes to the street. The street lamp draws around it a wide circle of light; the wind raises a poster whose colours were faded. Riku coughs again - his breath forming a thin layer of condensation on the glass.

He hears his door opened but doesn't turn back; a few steps, and then something warm is dropped off on his shoulders. There's a light, familiar scent emanating from the cloth; Iori's scent, he knows, this smell he can't describe with words but recognizes right away.

"Do you want a drink?" Iori asks, and his voice is still tinged with somnolence.

Riku put his hand on the cardigan; he feels sorry for waking him up. "Please." Though, to be honest, there is something that Riku wants even more, right now.

Iori leaves the room and for a few minutes, Riku is left alone before the window. He watches the poster being suddenly blown off and disappearing from his sight. He feels lonely. The seconds pass slowly. He hears every single one of them, brought into substance by the regular ticking of his alarm clock.

Iori comes back with two mugs and Riku gets away from the window, releasing the curtains. Once again Iori sits on his bed. He wears blue pyjamas whose colours are a bit lighter than his hair, buttoned up to the collar. Riku wants to sit right next to him, arm against arm, leg against leg, but he keeps his distance - only his hand gets near Iori, to take his drink, before pulling away.

"I'm sorry, Iori. I know you have school, tomorrow."

Iori shakes his head. "It's okay, Nanase-san. I couldn't sleep either." _Liar_ , Riku thinks; Iori's eyelids are heavy. However, the redhead doesn't say anything, quietly sipping his herbal tea, and Iori doesn't say a word either. It's still the middle of the night, after all, they can't really talk loudly or else they will wake up the others.

Anyway, why doesn't Iori go back to his bed? Riku knows he will cough all night, even though his drink soothes his throat a bit. Even if the bouts stop, he probably won't be able to rest. Iori is on the verge of lulling to sleep, here, on his bed - and realizing this makes him panic.

Yet it's not exactly a true panic, the one that blocks his airways; this kind of panic also makes his heart beat faster, but it's an enjoyable kind of stress: a bit of restlessness making his fingers trembling, forcing him to tighten his grip on the handle of the cup. Iori could sleep right here, and Riku never felt so vulnerable next to him.

He puts the mug down and says, voice weak: "You should go back to your room, Iori. You're obviously tired."

Iori turns his head and shoots him a dirty look. "Nanase-san, even if I leave, you won't sleep. I'm staying."

Riku's answer is a cough; bent in half, he expels the air from his lungs, trying to breathe in when he can. Iori puts his hand on his back, his palm still warm from the heat of the mug he held. When Riku's coughing ceases, Iori says: "Nanase-san, I can't sleep when I know you're like this."

Riku has no idea how he should answer to his confession.

The boys sit on his bed for a long time (Riku coughing from time to time). Iori fills the silence with his thoughts and anecdotes. Somewhere along the line, he tells him about the book he read, admitting he didn't understand all of it. He talks about the other members, giving his own insights about what he thinks are their strengths and flaws, showing how observant he can be. He talks about his childhood, mainly Mitsuki's (cute) stories. His voice is so warm, and Riku listens to him with awe. At some point, they probably lie, and Riku's body isn't shaken by coughs anymore.

At daybreak, he's awakened by a small knock on his door. Riku and Iori fell asleep glued to each other, and the posture is uncomfortable. His body is stiff. However, this night was worth it, as Iori's face when he realizes he might be late for school is, truly, priceless.

 

 

"I'll imagine they're from my past self, who forgot to sing at _Music Festa_. The mistake I made that day delayed us. But it's all right now. We can still arrive at our destination. I can still make up for that day's mistake. "

Riku's heart suddenly stops.

Iori's face is tainted with sadness, his voice full of shadows. Disappointment, failure, bitterness - a wide range of emotions he held back during the last months, ruthlessly repressed, suddenly emerge. His shoulders sink, his head lowers. This Iori is fragile, uncertain - and yet, somehow, he seems at peace with himself. He has the strength to smile, to believe he will be forgiven.

Riku wonders, _why didn't I see that sooner? why am I so blind to him?_

And they reach the stage.

Iori isn't the same anymore: while hypersensitive, he doesn't lose his composure. He sings with all his soul, his nervousness becoming a raw emotion tearing their fans apart. His balanced voice is clear, and Riku thinks, _his voice is beautiful_.

When they come back to their dressing room, their new JIMA trophy in his hands, he can't believe they won - the coldness of metal being the only proof he isn't dreaming. Iori draws away and lets his teammates chatting about their performance. Mitsuki cries again and Yamato waits quietly and Tamaki holds Sougo and shouts something in his ears and Nagi warmly thanks their manager. Riku thinks of Tenn and his promise, of his congratulations, and he can't imagine things becoming awkward between the two of them, so he's finally relieved.

He comes up to Iori.

The other boy sits in a corner, directly on the floor, eyes hidden by his hair falling before his face. Only a smile, soft, doubtful, can be seen. Riku squats down before him and Iori doesn't appear to notice him.

"I'm sorry, Iori," he whispers, "I should have noticed sooner. I should have helped you."

He doesn't apologize for Iori's sake only. He needs to forgive himself too, for he always has his eyes on Iori and he swore he would pay him back for his support and care. On stage, of course, as he tries to be the best idol he can; but he also wants to offer more, a part of himself, maybe, of gratitude, of affection. He should have told Iori how much he is admiring him. How much he can feel jealous of him.

Iori raises his head, and he's not sad. His tears are tears of joy - a delight he doesn't dare to show, as he is too reserved for that. His satisfaction shakes his body.

"You're wrong, Nanase-san. You already did much more than you think."

He's vulnerable and he smiles at Riku, with this tender smile he wished was for him, and boy, Riku is short of breath.

He wants to cry.

 

 

 

And Riku also knows how his teammates express their emotions.

Sougo tries to hide them and to keep it to himself, although he never hides his pride of being a part of IDOLiSH7. And when he's happy, he actually looks like a child. The same goes for Tamaki: he jumps, he dances, he shouts for joy. He's a guy who is frank and can be read like an open book. With Nagi, every problem becomes overly dramatic, as if they were in anime, and to be honest, Riku is a bit scared when he's mad; but in the end, he's the happiest of them all. Yamato is able to control his emotions as he wants, or at least, he looks like he's able to do so, and while he could easily mimic emotions, Riku believes he won't do that with them. Mitsuki is easily moved, awkward when someone acknowledges his talents, so when he wants to cry, he leaves the room.

The Izumi brothers are actually quite similar, Riku thinks while hugging Iori.

Iori, indeed, keeps away. He doesn't show his joy, he's always quiet, waiting for the moment he'll be alone to let his feelings out. He's observant and he's probably more happy for them than for him.

Yes, that's definitely what Riku loves in him.

 

 

 

They are only allowed a day of rest after _Black or White_ ; a simple day and then, Iori assures, they will be busier than ever. Their win is a springboard that will boost their popularity: they are now recognized by the audience who watched the contest, so for producers, a member of IDOLiSH7 starring in one of their shows or playing in a drama will increase the audience rating.

Riku still can't believe it.

"Of course, we won't be able to spend as much time as we used to", Iori points out.

"But the fans love our pair", Riku retorts. "I think the two of us will work together a lot!"

Iori sighs but doesn't answer.

This day is even quieter than usual. Everybody is at home but no noise can be heard. Sougo doesn't listen to anything and Nagi doesn't watch any anime. Tamaki fell asleep on the couch and Yamato haven't left his room yet. Mitsuki doesn't bother to cook. There are only the ticking of the clocks and occasional steps and light voices from time to time.

Riku lies on Iori's bed, his head on Iori's lap, his eyes closed. The other boy's hand strokes his forehead and the coldness of his fingers against his own skin feels nice. It's relaxing.

There isn't any distance between them anymore: Riku knows he has the right to get close to Iori whenever he wants, and when they're alone, he's also allowed to embrace him, to hides his face in the crook of his neck, to tease him a bit - and a whole lot of other things he never dreamt of, months ago. Iori does what he wants, too, even though his displays of affection are more reserved, shyer. Iori doesn't like physical contacts a lot, yet Riku is sure he's somehow enjoying their new closeness.

The notebook Riku bought him lies on his desk. It turns out Iori knew it was his gift all along and decided to use it for his plans for the future. Riku doesn't know what he means but he's glad Iori likes his present.

And while he thinks of their new relationship, of things they said and things they didn't say, he is hit by a sudden realization. And bursts out laughing.

"What's so funny, Nanase-san?" Iori's tone is dry, but Riku now knows it's only a mask: he can hear, in his voice, a tiny bit of affection, even though it's so light it would be easy to miss it.

When he finally stops laughing, he sits up straight, his eyes shining with tears. "Iori, we never said we liked each other." He looks into Iori's eyes, trying to read him. Maybe he is wrong; maybe his feelings are unrequited...

Iori's face turns red, however, and relief washes over Riku.

The younger boy looks away. "Nanase-san."

Riku keeps his mouth shut - in spite of Iori's stare who begs him to say something. So Iori, in the end, gives up: "Okay, okay, I get it, you want me to confess. I like you, Nanase-san. There, are you happy now?"

His voices trembles.

Riku throws himself on Iori, and the high schooler is so surprised he loses his balance and his back hits the wall. Riku doesn't mind at all. He whispers: "I like you too, Iori."

He can feel Iori's heartbeat against his chest - or maybe it is his own heart, at this point he doesn't know anymore.

These are mere words, they won't change anything to their feelings or what they are living right now. But for Riku, they are the starting point of their relationship.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think that Iori's notebook he uses for his plans for i7 was this specific gift from Riku. Let me dream please.
> 
> As for the book, _The Temple of the Golden Pavilion_ is a novel by Mishima Yukio. I hesitated a lot before choosing this one, I wasn't sure that Riku (this cinnamon roll) would read this author (controversial and subversive so) but in the end, my knowledge in japanese litterature isn't that great and this book was the most appropriate out of all the ones I've read. It deals with a guy who's kinda obsessed with the idea of Beauty and chases it, but he doesn't manage to reach and it drives him mad. I thought Riku would be quite compassionate. The novel is, in my opinion, one of these books you should read several times if you want to understand it better. _Nowaki_ from Natsume Soseki would have worked too but I think I'll use it for another work. Anyway, if you have other recs, please tell me! I'm always looking for new books. ;)


End file.
